


A House of Pomegranates

by TeamTHEFT



Series: De Profundis [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-22
Updated: 2017-03-26
Packaged: 2018-07-26 02:26:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7556458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeamTHEFT/pseuds/TeamTHEFT
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is what's happening in the Wizarding World (or the original universe), while Harry, Sherlock & Co. are in the DW/TW universe. It won't be updated frequently, but I'm putting the first chapter I have up for those who couldn't follow the sequel considering its integration with Torchwood. </p><p>Here we have it. The consequences of destroying the Wizarding World. </p><p>It's not going to be pretty.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The veil shimmered and faded before their sight. Harry and the others were no longer there. 

“Now what?” 

George’s words shocked everyone from their stupor. Mycroft’s back straightened, Bill’s grip on his wand tightened, and Charlie crossed his arms. 

Shacklebolt took a step towards the door. 

“There was nothing we could do. Surely you can’t punish the Wizarding World for this,” Shacklebolt tried backpedaling quickly. 

“I’m certain we can. You see, you had no rights to throw Harry Potter in prison, let alone into the Veil for a certain death. And that is exactly what you did. In doing so, you violated the right she had for a trial – a violations the Ministry ought to have learned from when they unjustly imprisoned one Sirius Black for thirteen years. In doing so, the Queen is within her rights to abolish Wizarding England,” Mycroft said, his voice like diamonds – smooth, pointed and hard. There was no room left in his words for Shacklebolt to protest. 

“But what will we do? Where will we go? Wizarding Britain is the center point for all wizarding activity,” Shacklebolt reasoned.

“You should have thought of that before you broke the treaty made between the Ministry of Magic and the Queen – at that point King – of England in 1407,” Mycroft stated. He gestured for the others to start walking.

“Come along. We want to be outside of this building before we strike the Ministry down. Otherwise things could get messy,” Mycroft observed. 

“You can’t do this! This affects all of us! How will it affect your family?” Shacklebolt tried appealing to the Weasleys. 

“This is all that’s left of our family. Except perhaps our father. We will collect him on our way out,” Charlie stated. 

“Is Dad in today?” Bill asked.

“He’s in most days. I don’t believe he gets along with Mom anymore,” George murmured back. 

“Can’t say I blame him,” Bill responded. 

“I’m afraid I can’t let you do this,” Shacklebolt said from behind them, his voice steadier. They turned to see him with his wand on them, five Unspeakables behind him with their wands raised as well. 

“You don’t want to do that,” Mycroft informed him.

“I will not have the Ministry of Magic fall while I’m the Minister,” Shacklebolt told him.

“Then you had bettered resign. We are under the protection of Her Majesty the Queen,” Mycroft said.

“I don’t see a queen here now. And she’s a muggle. She can’t do much to protect you,” Shacklebolt sneered at them.

“She can do more than you think,” Mycroft said, turning once more to leave. 

Shacklebolt and the Unspeakables shot off a few spells at them. Bill, Charlie and George watched as the spells fizzed out before reaching Mycroft. 

“Protection from the Queen means quite a bit,” Mycroft said lightly as they headed for the lift, Charlie and Bill still glancing behind them every now and then, wands ready. 

George kept his eyes ahead. 

“I should have gone with them,” George said as they made it to the floor their father was on. 

“With Harry?” Charlie asked. George nodded. 

“It’s not like I have anything here, keeping me from leaving.” The bitterness oozed from George’s words.

“Of course you do. You have the prank shop. That’s important to you,” Bill pointed out.

“Is it? Fred was the one who loved pranks. I loved whatever Fred loved.”

His words seemed to throw both Bill and Charlie. Neither knew how to respond, so they just exchanged worried looks. 

“Plus, if the Wizarding World is being destroyed in Britain, what will I do?” George asked miserably.

“Move to America. They could use a Wizarding Prank shop,” Mycroft suggested from in front of them, not even bothering to turn around as he spoke. George lifted his head to stare at the man who didn’t turn. 

“I don’t know,” George finally said as they approached their father’s office.

As soon as Arthur Weasley saw three of his children he was on his feet.

“What happened? What’s wrong?” Arthur asked, glancing from one son to the next, then to the third. And then he glanced at Mycroft. 

“We need to leave, Dad. Trust me,” Bill told his father. 

“What’s going on?” he asked.

“It has to do with Harry,” Charlie murmured, his voice low.

“Is she okay?” Arthur asked worriedly.

“Now she is. But she’s no longer in our world,” Bill said delicately.

And Arthur blanched.

“Let me grab my things,” he said as he quickly began shoving papers and such into a bag. In no time, he had shrunk the bag and placed it in his pocket. 

The now five of them headed for the exit, passing by and ignoring all the curious stares they were receiving. 

Mycroft waited until they were outside of the Ministry of Magic before giving the Weasleys a grin. He pulled a paper from his pocket and handed it to Bill. 

“I need you to read that document with your hand placed on the side of the building,” Mycroft explained. 

“Anything else? That’s it?” Bill asked, surprised.

“It’ll take quite a bit of magic to do so, but I don’t foresee that being a problem,” Mycroft waved it off. 

Ignoring Arthur’s inquisitive glance, Bill began to read.

“As a spokesperson for Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II of England, I hereby declare the England Ministry of Magic to be disbanded under violation of Section 4, Subsection 27 of the England Peace Treaty of 1407 between English Wizards and the Kings and Queens of England.”

As soon as the words left Bill’s mouth, the building began to rumble. Bricks fell out of place and, while it did not entirely collapse, it left the building in a much more dilapidated state than it would have ever reached on its own. The words Bill had read etched themselves onto the one remaining wall of the building in gold, explaining exactly what had happened. 

“What happens now?” Arthur asked quietly, staring at the words with wide eyes. 

“The Queen will issue an ordinance to be delivered to every wizard in the UK, announcing that they have to register their identities. Classes will be set up in the next month for Wizards who know nothing about the Muggle world and they will be mandatory to allow for better integration,” Mycroft explained. 

“Wow,” Charlie murmured. 

“No one’s going to be very happy,” Bill stated.

“No. I daresay they won’t be. But that’s what happens when a government becomes this corrupt. It gets dismantled,” Mycroft said, a cold glint in his eyes. He walked off, Charlie, Bill and Arthur alongside him. 

George trailed behind. 

Everything that was left of what he knew was being destroyed. 

And the others didn’t seem to care. 

He trailed behind them for a few blocks before he noted a woman watching them. She was wearing a hood and pressed against the alley wall. With a glance at the others, much farther ahead of him by this point, George moved closer. 

“Hello. Are you okay?” George asked her politely. The woman’s eyes flew to his, startled at his approach. 

Her eyes had only been on the rest of the group.

“I am. Yes,” she said with a nod. 

“You don’t seem that okay,” George observed. 

“I am. What’s going on?” she asked, nodding towards the others. 

“Politics,” George said, repeating a word Mycroft had told him earlier. 

The woman snorted at him. 

“I figured as much. But it involves the Wizarding World, doesn’t it?” she asked. 

George hadn’t even guessed she would be a witch. 

“I…yeah. It does. Are you a witch?” he asked her.

“No. But I live in Knockturn Alley,” she said. 

 

So she was some sort of creature inheritance. That sort could only find homes in Knockturn Alley. 

“Yeah. The Queen of England – who knew there was a queen? – just decided to abolish the Wizarding Government. It’ll now be absorbed into the British government, and those who resist, I think, will be banished,” George explained what he had gathered from Mycroft to the best of his ability. 

The woman’s eyes flashed with fear before going blank. She nodded.

“I see,” she mused. 

“Listen, are you okay? Because…you don’t look okay. I know it’s got to be rough, having creature inheritances and hearing all this. But everything’ll be fine,” George tried reassuring her. She gave him an unreadable look before offering him a small smile. 

“What’s your name?” she asked. 

“George Weasley.”

“Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes?” she asked. George nodded.

“And your name?”

Here she hesitated before giving him a second, albeit tentative smile. 

“Irene. My name’s Irene.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait! It's been one hell of a summer - updates will be spread out and erratic - sorry, but that's how it's going to be. :/ But don't fear, I'm giving up on nothing!
> 
> -Andi

The first ten hours after the ministry was destroyed, nothing big happened. It was as if no one really knew what had happened, so they hadn’t had the chance to protest it yet. 

And then all hell broke lose.

George could tell as soon as the news became publicly known. He was packing up his shop, preparing to move his merchandise to a safe location, when the shouts began. Everyone began shouting, and spells began being shot off in every which direction. 

His Floo roared up and Charlie stumbled out.

“Almost done?” he asked.

“Nearly. Getting there. Can you start shrinking things? I think I’ll have to vacate my apartment too,” George said with a wince as he heard glass shatter. 

Charlie cursed but did as George asked.

They’d managed to get the shop cleared out when Bill Flooed in as well. 

“What’s wrong?” Charlie asked as soon as Bill stepped through.

“Mum and Ginny are going crazy. Fleur, Dad and I have been trying to explain everything to them, but Ron just showed up. We need some backup,” Bill said. 

Charlie glanced helplessly between Bill and George before George gave him a small smile.

“I’ll be right along. Just got to pack up the apartment above,” George said.

“Are you sure? It’s looking really bad out there,” Charlie said. Bill also looked worried upon realizing they weren’t finished. 

“I’m sure. I’d leave it, but, well, Fred’s things are all up there too.”

His words made neither brother suggest they just leave. Bill and Charlie nodded to him before Flooing back out. 

George hurried upstairs and frantically packed things, not even bothering to organize anything. Everything went into a bag Harry had gifted him for his and Fred’s last birthday together. 

And when his bag filled, he used the one Harry had gifted to Fred. 

He had only just finished packing everything up when the street exploded. 

There was a weightlessness feeling as he fell downwards, into a pile of debris. But the ceiling did not collapse on him. Something held it up. Keeping it from crushing him. 

The explosion shattered the house. George slid the two bags over his body before climbing out of the rubble. He’d been lucky, George noted – incredibly, stupidly lucky. 

Then again, he always had been. It’d been like he’d taken all the luck when him and Fred were born. 

Once he’d gotten on the street, he wished he hadn’t. All of Diagon had been levelled. None of the Floo would be working, he realized with a frown. 

And why would it? None of the buildings were even standing anymore. 

“What are you doing, just standing there?” a voice hissed at him. George turned suddenly, surprised. 

The woman was standing there once more, black hair mussed and red lips pursed into a worried frown. She was glancing down the street both ways suspiciously.

She had to be part Veela. There was no other way she could be so beautiful, George decided. 

“What?” George managed to ask, shaking his head.

“That was only the first. Something big is happening. They’re destroying everything. We need to get out of here,” she told him.

“The Floo’s blocked,” George supplied.

“And the front entrance is blocked by the explosion. Any other exits?” she asked him.

“I could try apparating out?” George suggested, only for the woman to shake her head.

“No use. I heard some other wizards talking. That’s what freaked them out. Said there was an anti-apparation ward right now on England,” she warned him.

George’s frown grew. 

“Do you know any other exits? Like through another ally?” the woman repeated.

“I can help you look. I need to get out of here as badly as you do,” George managed to say. 

The woman’s frown lifted only slightly, and only on one side of her face.

“Then lead the way, wizard,” she said, gesturing for a nearby alley.

“You say that like you aren’t one,” George told her as he started walking. A shout behind them made him hurry his pace. 

Alongside him, the woman was hurrying as well.

“First off, I’m a woman,” the woman said drily.

“I noticed,” George said. When the woman shot him a look, George’s eyes widened.

“Not noticed. I did not notice,” he tried amending, only for her eyebrow to raise. 

“Pay attention to where we’re going,” she ordered.

“Got it,” he said, but he was still watching her out of the corner of his eye. 

“But I’m not that either. A witch. Just a regular human,” the woman told him.

“How’d a human like you end up in Diagon Alley?” George asked, taken aback. 

“Quite a bit of talent paired with a dash of luck,” she told him. They turned down another street, only to find more rubble. 

“What blew these streets up?” George asked faintly.

“I don’t know about this one, but the last one was a wizard with a crazy smile. He looked deranged and started shouting off spells. And then he blew up,” she said.

“Blew up? Like a bomb?”

“No. He literally blew up. Bits of him went everywhere. And then the street exploded.”

But what could have caused that?

“This wasn’t our fault,” George murmured to himself.

“For taking down the ministry? No. And yes. Because if I know Mycroft – and I do – there would be clause saying that anyone going against the Queen would forfeit their magic. And they were destroying the newly claimed Queen’s property,” the woman said.

“How do you know Mycroft? I never mentioned his name,” George protested.

“No. You didn’t. Him and I go way back,” the woman told him. 

“Who are you?” George asked as they turned down another street.

“I’m Irene Addler. Otherwise known as the Woman. Now that looks like an exit to me.”

 

****

 

“Yes, Mum, that’s what we’ve been trying to explain to you,” Bill said with a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“But why would you do such a thing?” his mother screeched.

“Because our Ministry had become corrupt,” Charlie informed their mother.

“You just don’t like it because you’ve always had a thing for Harry,” Ginny said, crossing her arms. 

“I have not,” Charlie protested when Bill shot him a curious look.

“Of course you did. I heard you, you know. Summer after fourth year. You can’t lie about it. You were smitten by her. And so was Fred. It was sickening,” Ginny spat. 

“Everyone was smitten by her,” Ron agreed in his grumble, shoving another of his mother’s homemade cookies in his mouth.

“It has nothing to do with that!” Charlie protested. 

“Molly dear, he’s right. I’ve been talking for years about how corrupt the Ministry is,” Arthur pointed out. 

“Why isn’t George back yet?” Bill murmured.

“He should be. I’ll Floo and check on him,” Charlie said. He went to floo into the shop, only to find he couldn’t get through. He fell back out at the Burrow. 

Bill, Arthur, and Molly all stopped arguing.

“Something’s wrong. I couldn’t floo out,” Charlie said.

“Try the Leaky Cauldron. I’ll try apparating,” Bill said. Charlie nodded and tried, only to fall out once more on the floor. 

And Bill was still standing there.

“I can’t Apparate,” Bill said. 

“No way,” Ron said, standing. 

And he continued to stand.

“Me either!” he protested, eyes wide.

“What’s going on?” Molly shrieked. 

“Fleur!” Bill shouted, heading for the door. Fleur stumbled back inside, her child in her arms. 

“Is all he floo down, or just diagon alley?” Charlie asked.

“I’ll try flooing home,” Bill said, hurrying for the fireplace. 

He managed it, only to floo back a moment later.

“That’s safe. Fleur, I need you to head home. Pack things up quickly. I don’t know what’s going on, but we need to make sure we’re ready to leave. Meet back here. Charlie and I are going to figure out what’s going on,” Bill ordered. Fleur nodded, hurrying through the Floo. 

“What do you plan on doing?” Molly demanded from them.

“We’re going to Floo to London, then investigate Diagon Alley. Meet up with a friend and figure out what’s happening,” Bill explained shortly. 

“And what are we supposed to do? Just sit here?” Ron asked, his mouth full. 

“It’s not like you could help us any,” Charlie said with a grimace. 

“Oi! I could do plenty!” Ron said indignantly.

“I’m coming along,” Ginny announced, standing.

“We can do it on our own,” Bill told his younger sister, but she shook her head.

“I’m coming,” she said stubbornly.

“Fine,” Bill said with a sigh.

“Be careful,” Arthur warned him.

“You too. I’d pack up here as well, just in case. We don’t know what’s going on,” Charlie pointed out. 

As soon as they flooed out, Molly let out another cry. Arthur turned to see her staring at the clock.

Bill and Charlie’s names drifted from Home to Mortal Peril. 

And Ginny’s was following theirs rather quickly. 

“Do what they suggested. Start packing anything you can’t live without,” Arthur ordered grimly. 

****

 

Muggle London was chaos. Bill and Charlie could only stare around the area that had been so normal just a day ago. Now, there were fires blazing on street corners, and people were running in panic. 

“We didn’t do this,” Bill murmured, eyes wide.

“What did you do?” Ginny demanded, her own eyes just as wide.

“We need to find Mycroft. This couldn’t be our fault,” Charlie agreed.

The three of them hurried down the streets, only to collide with a blonde.

Draco Malfoy.

“You. What are you doing here?” Charlie sneered at him.

“Trying to get out of this chaos. Same as everyone else,” Draco said, his own sneer falling short as an explosion rattled the streets.

“What was that?” Bill asked.

“Something’s happening. When wizards use certain spells, they explode,” Draco warned him. 

Charlie and Bill blanched, giving each other looks.

“Mycroft didn’t say that would happen,” Bill said uneasily. 

“Who is Mycroft?” Ginny demanded.

“Not now, Gin. We’ve got to figure this out,” Charlie waved her off. 

“I’ll come with you!” Draco suggested.

“No. You won’t,” Charlie disagreed.

“Why can’t I? I need answers too,” Draco pointed out.

“You betrayed Harry!” Charlie hissed at him.

“I didn’t betray anyone!” Draco protested. 

“You and your mother did. Came to Sherlock’s, trying to say you were searching for her. You two turned in Severus, and then your own father,” Bill explained what they had been told by Mycroft and Sherlock. 

“What? No. I havne’t heard from Uncle Sev. Mom said he had run away. And that Dad had died in Azkaban,” Draco protested, eyes wide. 

“I don’t think he knew,” Bill murmured.

“I don’t care,” Charlie shot back.

“Come along then. Just stay out of the way,” Bill warned him. Ginny huffed at the inclusion of Malfoy, but in Bill’s opinion, one more wizard was one more off the streets causing problems. 

The sooner they learned what was happening, the sooner they could find a way to George. 

They wandered back near where Sherlock had lived, searching for signs of Mycroft watching. Sherlock had explained to them that Mycroft watched CCTV. 

And then he had explained what CCTV was.

“There! That one moved!” Bill pointed, waving at the camera. The camera then moved to the left.

“Let’s go that way. He’ll find us,” Charlie suggested. 

Sure enough, it wasn’t five minutes before a limo pulled up, Mycroft sticking his head out with a grim look etched on his face. 

“Get in. We have a problem,” was his greeting.

“We noticed,” Bill agreed, climbing in. Charlie didn’t hesitate to follow – Ginny and Draco both eyed the limo dubiously before climbing in. 

“Who’s this?” Mycroft asked, staring disdainfully at the additions.

“My sister Ginny, and Draco Malfoy,” Bill said as he pointed to them. 

“I see. Now. Where is George?” he asked. 

“Diagon Alley. He was packing the shop, and we can’t get there now,” Bill said grimly. 

And Mycroft’s frown grew.

“I’m afraid, if he was in Diagon Alley, there’s a good chance he’s dead. The street was levelled,” Mycroft said.

“What? Why? You didn’t warn us that would happen!” Charlie protested.

“Because I didn’t do anything about it. There was a clause I was….unaware of…in the original treaty, the one that was rendered useless. Any wizard who causes damage to the queen’s property shall forfeit their lives. We placed the anti-apparition ban, and when wizards found out…they panicked. Started blowing things up. And then they blew up. Because the land they did such on was no longer their land. It was the Queen’s,” Mycroft said grimly. 

“What’s going to happen? Can we reverse it?” Bill asked anxiously.

“I’m certain we can. The Queen’s Wizarding consultants are working on the matter diligently. Now. Is there any way for you to track and see if George is still alive?” Mycroft asked.

“We could ask Dad. The clock. George’s hand,” Charlie suggested, only for Bill to shake his head.

“He ripped his hand off the clock. There’s no way of knowing,” Bill said darkly.

“We intend to excavate the street as soon as we can stop these unsavory…explosions. The people of London are going crazy,” Mycroft said in distaste. 

“Yeah,” Charlie said, glancing out the window, “We can see that.”

“Was this the right thing? Did we do the right thing?” Bill asked, turning to face Mycroft. 

“There was no other choice. Going in, we assumed Harry and Sherlock were alive and imprisoned. We were not expecting to have to use these manners so suddenly. There was not enough time to pore over all the consequences,” Mycroft explained delicately.

“Wait – you guys did this?” Draco accused, eyes narrowing. 

“We did this because the Ministry is corrupted beyond saving,” Charlie defended them, glaring at the blonde. 

“And look what you did,” Draco pointed out. 

“We can see that. Don’t worry about George. We will be able to access Diagon Alley by evening. We’ll be able to see if he’s okay then,” Mycroft told them.

“What should we do until then? We’ve been packing our things,” Bill explained. 

“Without apparition, our homes are too far from London. If Floo goes down, we would be too far to help with this,” Charlie added.

“You have a family, yes?” Mycroft asked Bill. Bill nodded.

“Move your family into Sherlock and Harry’s flat. Charlie, you and your father can take Mrs. Hudson’s place in 221A,” Mycroft said. 

Then he turned to Draco. He eyed the blonde carefully. 

“Do you have any other friends who might need sanctuary?” Mycroft asked Charlie and Bill.

“Luna!” Ginny interjected. Bill and Charlie gave her a surprised look.

“What? Luna’s all alone in that house, now that her father’s passed on,” Ginny defended. 

“Charlie, you and your father can move the family into 221A. This Luna girl and Malfoy can move into 221C. That way you’re all ready for action and close by to assist in destabilizing the government,” Mycroft announced.

“What! Why should he stay there?” Ginny demanded.

“Because I have a hunch Mr. Malfoy here can be of assistance. If he truly is repentant of his mother’s actions, he will do whatever he can to help make things right,” Mycroft explained. 

“I am. I do,” Malfoy said quickly. Mycroft nodded swiftly.

“Then it’s decided. Go home, get your things. Move into 221 today. I’ll contact you there once we get to Diagon Alley.”


	3. Running

Irene led George through the streets he’d only heard horror stories about, neither of them stopping long enough to pay attention to anything. 

Behind them, explosions went off every few minutes. 

“You wizards aren’t the brightest,” Irene commented as she pulled him down yet another unmarked alley.

“Not all of us, thank you very much,” George protested. She flashed him a smile before they came up to an opening in the alley. 

“I’m thinking this might be an exit,” Irene guessed.

“How do you reckon? It looks like a new alley to me,” George protested.

“You mean you can’t feel the difference? Magic. Diagon Alley, Knocturn Alley – they’re all swimming in magic. It’s in the air. Here, there’s none of that. And look. Business men,” Irene said, pointing towards a couple of men walking away from them. 

“Right. So we’re out. But there’s explosions coming from that way as well,” George pointed out. 

And Irene cursed. 

“We need to get out of London. Now. Everything’s descending into chaos. How do you feel about France?” she asked him.

“What? I can’t leave. My whole family’s here. I’m sure they’re looking for me,” George pointed out. 

“Right now, everything’s going to hell. Who knows how long it’ll be before it goes back to normal? Send them a letter, letting them know you’re safe. But we need to get out of England. It’s not the time to be an English Citizen,” Irene informed him. 

George’s throat felt tight, but he nodded. His family would be fine without him. He could tell them he was alright.

“I don’t know. Do they have a market for a joke shop in France?” George asked, mustering up a grin.

“I’m sure we could make the market for it,” Irene told him, giving him a smile right back. 

“Okay. Let me send them a letter. Then we’ll go to France.”

***

Irene insisted he use Muggle means to send to letter. But George wasn’t sure where to send a Muggle letter – his house didn’t really have a real address, according to what they wanted. 

So he sent it addressed to Charlie, to where Harry used to live. He was certain Mycroft would monitor the house – he could get the letter to Charlie, couldn’t he?

Of course he could.

With the letter in the mail, Irene dragged him along to a train station, where she spent ten minutes whispering furiously with a shady ‘businessman’. When she had finished, she sauntered back over to him with two tickets. She handed one to him.

“Hurry up. Our train leaves in ten minutes,” she told him.

“What do you mean?” George asked.

“You have to have proper identification to leave the country, especially right now. You and I do not. So I got us identification. We need to hurry,” she urged him, her hand slipping in his to tug him along the station, weaving in between people who were taking their time trying to find their own trains. 

She must’ve found the right train, because the next thing George knew she was pulling him up on a train, handing her ticket to the man standing there. She then flashed a stack of papers at him.

He examined them before nodding and taking George’s ticket as well. Irene snatched the papers back from him and hurried onto the train.

“How did you talk that man into getting us papers?” George asked her as they settled into the seats. She placed a finger to her lips, glancing around intently. When she was satisfied, she motioned for him to lean closer.

“Don’t talk in public. It’s not safe. I’ll explain later. Once we’re out of here. We’ve two hours before we reach Paris. I have connections in the city that can get us a safe place to hide,” Irene explained before leaning back. 

“Only two hours?” George asked curiously. Usually, even with a portkey, it took a few hours to leave the country. They had all the authorizations and international boundaries to go through before they could switch countries. The fact that muggles could make it from London to Paris in two hours was astounding. 

Irene gave him a small smile.

“Yes. You’d be surprised how much us common folk have created. I’ll get you a book on technology,” she told him. 

George resisted the urge to ask her what technology was. 

“Are you leaving anyone behind?” George finally asked as the train took off. 

“Anyone?” Irene repeated.

“Yeah. Friends, family?” he asked, feeling awkward about having to elaborate. Her eyes seemed to bore into him.

“No. I don’t have any family, not anymore. And friends are more of a hazard than anything else, in my line of work,” Irene told him.

“What is your line of work?” George asked her.

“I’ll tell you later,” she said, winking at him. 

“I will hold you to that, you know,” George told her, giving her a grin of his own.

“Oh, I’m sure you will. I have a feeling I won’t be getting rid of you too easily,” Irene said. 

“Nope. I’m impossible to get rid of. Harry used to complain, saying I followed her around like a bad penny. But she never would explain what that meant,” George complained before he sobered up. 

Harry. 

He’d never see her again. 

Just like that, the last part of Fred was gone.

“Who’s Harry? Is she your girlfriend?” Irene asked softly. George shook his head, alarmed at the thought.

“Oh no. My twin’s girlfriend, yeah, sort of, but never mine. She was like my second twin. We were always getting into trouble, back at school,” George said fondly. 

“There’s two of you?” Irene asked, her interesting peeking.

“Not anymore.”

The words came out harsher than he’d have wished, but he really couldn’t control it. Even when he was the one to bring Fred up, hearing someone else mention him just cut straight to his heart. 

He really wished Harry was still there. 

“Oh. I’m sorry. What about Harry?” Irene asked, her tone softer.

“She’s gone too now. Her and her…man…left. Won’t ever see them again,” George murmured. 

“You could always find them,” Irene tried, but George shook his head.

“Her and Sherlock are long gone.”

His words seemed to shock Irene. She sat up straighter, facing him entirely.

“Sherlock Holmes?” she asked, her voice barely above a murmur.

“Yeah. That’s who Harry's with,” George said, surprised. 

“Where’d they disappear to?” she asked quickly.

“Another world,” George said simply. He couldn’t say more – not here. He could already tell that a man a few seats away was looking at them a bit too closely for his comfort. He gave a discrete nod in that direction and Irene nodded as well. 

“Maybe we can send them a letter. We’ll talk to my friends in the city,” Irene said, settling back into her seat. 

But her shoulders remained tense. 

George kept himself ready to dart off at a moment’s notice, but the rest of the train ride passed without incident. The two of them climbed off the train and Irene wasted no time in pulling him through the station, ducking away from counters and guards. They didn’t stop until they were somewhere deep underground. 

“Where are we?” George asked.

“Catacombs. Come along,” she said softly, slipping her hand in his before hurrying down the tunnels. 

After a while, George was shocked to see bones in the walls. The walls seemed to be made up of bones. And then there were voices. George very nearly drew his wand until he noticed a tour group.

“We’re going to slink into the back and pretend we’ve been there the entire time,” Irene murmured, keeping her hand in his as she slid closer to him, slowing their pace to a meander as they sidled up to the back of the group.

The guide was chattering along in French, George assumed. All he knew for certain was that it wasn’t English, and it sort of resembled the language Fleur would garble on in at times. 

The tour seemed to go on for ages before they finally resurfaced into the city itself. Irene let out a long sigh and inhaled, eyes closing briefly.

“I hate the smell of underground. Reminds me of my time as a prisoner,” Irene admitted, giving George a half smile. 

“I can understand that,” George agreed. She seemed surprised that he didn’t ask her any more questions. 

“I’m a dominatrix,” Irene told him bluntly.

“What’s that?”

“It means I dominate people. Generally in sex. And I blackmail people. That’s how I got us out of London. I knew something on the man we spoke with,” Irene explained. 

“Sounds like fun,” George said. 

Irene gave him a look of disbelief.

“Well, maybe not the blackmailing part, but hey, sex is always fun,” George said, winking at her. 

“That’s not the usual response I get,” Irene noted. 

“I’m not your usual guy,” George informed her as his grin grew. He hadn’t smiled this much since Fred…

Maybe he should stick around Irene. 

 

****

 

Back in London, a single letter sat in the post office to be sorted alongside the hundreds other letters. In one of the explosions, the letter slid off of the pile, fluttering to the ground and underneath one of the counters.

It wouldn’t be found for months.

***

 

“What do we do now?”

Bill’s voice echoed through the silent room. Fleur sat next to him, cradling Victoire. Mycroft was nursing a glass of firewhisky, head in his free hand. Molly was ashen, fingers shaking slightly as she tried to neaten a stack of papers. 

Charlie was stoicly staring out the window.

“We don’t have much we can do. We’ll go report to the queen and register the lot of you as the Queen’s Wizards, so your magic will be fully stabilized. But from there? I hadn’t anticipated how utterly stupid wizards were,” Mycroft said, downing half the glass in a swallow. 

“We need to contact our family. Let them know what’s happening,” Bill said. 

“Ron and Percy are part of the Ministry. I’m sure they’ll never agree,” Charlie said bitterly. 

“And Molly and Ginny are stubborn as well. But what about Dad? And we still don’t know where George is,” Bill pointed out. 

“I’ll have Lestrade meet us at the palace. Send your father an owl. Is there anyone else you know that you want to warn?” Mycroft asked them. 

“Harry was rather close with Luna Lovegood, wasn’t she?” Charlie asked. 

“I think so?” Bill was uncertain.

“I’ll send Luna an owl as well,” Charlie nodded, standing up and hurrying out of the room. 

“Maybe we all should have gone with Harry,” Fleur murmured.

“We don’t know how that universe is doing either. It’s just as much of an unknown,” Bill reminded his wife. 

Fleur gave him a sad nod. 

“Is your sister still in France?” Bill asked her, and Fleur nodded. 

“Good. Maybe we can send an owl to your family, letting them know not to leave France,” Bill suggested. Fleur nodded and hurried out of the room. 

“What the hell are we going to do to fix this?” Bill hissed, whirling around to face Mycroft.

“I don’t know. If Sherlock were here, he’d come up with something,” Mycroft admitted, for once his expression showing just how lost he was. 

“We can figure something out,” Molly said, offering the older Holmes brother a small smile. 

Charlie returned to the room and sank back into a chair with a sigh.

“Letters have been owled. First things first, we should probably draft up some sort of mass letter to go out to the Wizarding Families immediately. So they know to not go using their magic,” Charlie said.

“There should be a letter going out in a few days, but I think you may be right. As soon as we speak with the Queen, we can write up a letter and have it sent out,” Mycroft agreed. 

“We need a plan before we speak to the Queen, right?” Charlie asked.

“It would be desirable, yes,” Mycroft agreed. 

“We’re also going to need a public service announcement so the people of Great Britain understand what’s going on. They must be assuming terrorists,” Molly said fretfully.

“Yes. We’ll have to release information about wizards existing,” Mycroft said, throwing back the rest of his firewhisky.

“I don’t get paid enough for this.”

 

***

 

It took a few days, but they finally notified the rest of Wizarding Britain of the changes. The majority seemed to realize the only way to survive was to either not use magic, or swear allegiance to the queen. 

And so, England gained quite a few new citizens who had no idea how to do anything. 

Muggle England was more or less wary of everything, and these new strangers stuck out like sore thumbs to the already paranoid people.

Mycroft’s home housed Harry's friends. No word had been heard from George and Mycroft regretfully informed them that their brother was probably dead. 

None of them took it too well.

Luna also came to live with them, her absentmindness seeming to lighten the mood at all times.

But Mycroft was always watching the girl carefully.

Because the things she said? He understood the underlying messages. 

She wasn’t just babbling. 

She was speaking of the future. 

And it didn’t sound too good. 

It sounded like chaos. They’d fucked up. And he didn’t think there was a way to fix it.

Yet they couldn’t have left things as it were. As it had been, the Wizarding World would have exposed themselves within the next five years and would have destroyed half of England in their reveal. This way, most of those destroyed were the wizards as opposed to innocent parties. 

So, a month after Harry and Sherlock disappeared into the Veil, Mycroft had made a decision.

“We need to figure out how to send people to the other world as well.”

His words were met with confusion.

“But we can’t. The only reason Harry succeeded is because she’s the master of death,” Bill pointed out. 

“We could do it, if Harry had something of ours to connect us,” Luna said, her voice surprisingly clear. 

“But how could we get something to her?” Charlie asked the girl critically. Luna shrugged, lucid behavior fading as she murmured something about a snickering squigglypuff. 

Mycroft wasn’t sure if that was a wizarding creature or a pokemon. 

Honestly, by this point he could care less. 

“I’m serious. Right now, this…this isn’t working,” Mycroft admitted, a bitter taste forming in his mouth at admitting to the failure.

“This is our world. We can’t just abandon it. Surely there’s something else we can do,” Bill argued. 

“I’m certain there is. If we had Sherlock’s brain helping as well as mine. However…we don’t have his intelligence, and he doesn’t know we need a way to communicate,” Mycroft explained. 

“Oh. We need someone to go there to let him know we need communication,” Charlie realized. 

“Indeed. I wasn’t suggesting a mass exodus of our population to another world,” Mycroft said, a sneer curling automatically on his lips. 

“But who would go?” Bill asked, eyes drifting over to Fleur and Victoire. 

“Not you. Don’t worry. With the risks, we don’t want to send you through,” Mycroft reassured the young man. Bill nodded gratefully.

“We’ll work on it. We need to come up with some present day solutions to at least hold everything off until we can establish communication with Sherlock,” Mycroft announced. 

“How’s the Queen taking this?” Charlie asked, dragging his eyes from the window.

“She’s not pleased. She realizes what the alternative would have been, but this is still a rather unpleasant ordeal,” Mycroft admitted. 

“How are the other countries reacting? The news mentioned Britain was having a hard time maintaining foreign relationships at the moment,” Molly whispered. 

“The news exaggerates. But it is becoming a problem, what with the wizards fleeing to other countries and causing problems in their wake,” Mycroft said. 

***

 

It had been a long month of hiding in France. 

A good month, though. George enjoyed getting to know Irene – and decided that, should he ever decide to settled down, it ought to be with someone like Irene. 

Irene, for her part, was crafty. Crafty and intelligent. She always managed to get them to move towns right before an attack. They were careful, and had managed to develop some sort of hiding that felt like a real life experience as opposed to feeling oppressed. 

All that changed one fateful afternoon. 

George was at the park, showing muggle magic tricks to a group of muggle children while Irene was sketching on a park bench nearby. 

At least, George called it sketching. Irene called it planning. But George liked watching her eyes flare up whenever he called it sketching or, when he felt particularly cheeky, doodling. 

Irene had yet to punish him for his teasing, but George could sense she would slap him one day. And he was intrigued to see how long it would take her. 

It was on this afternoon that it started to rain in the middle of one of George’s tricks. The children scurried back to their parents rapidly as fat droplets scattered the dirt around. 

“We need to leave. Now.”

Irene’s voice came from right over his shoulder. He spun around quickly, surprised to see her there and alarmed. She was always poised, calm. Collected.

But not now. Now, she looked scared. Properly terrified. George threw his backpack on and gripped her hand tightly, prepared to run. 

Only to freeze. 

Standing in front of them was Draco Malfoy. A very unkempt Draco Malfoy, whose wide eyes looked massive on his haggard face. Irene was tugging on his hand, trying to pull him away, but George couldn’t take his eyes off of Malfoy. 

It was daunting to see the boy who’d always seemed to untouchable, so perfect, look so out of place. So utterly ruined. Harry had mentioned that he’d been a bit rough their sixth year, but rough didn’t cover Malfoy’s appearance. He had at least a week’s worth of stubble across his face, and his hair was past his ears in length. His clothes were all but rags. 

“Weasley,” he whispered. He reached for his pocket, only to stop. George’s hand reached for his own wand, but he didn’t draw it. Instead, he chose to wait.

“We need to get out of here. There’s more,” Irene urged. Her words made Draco’s eyes widen. 

“They’re coming for me,” Draco said in horror. And he looked so utterly wrecked at that conclusion. 

Later, George blamed Harry. Because at that moment, he saw a look on Draco’s face that he’d only ever seen before on Harry's right before she gave up on trying to live. Right after she’d seen Fred’s body. 

And he couldn’t help but see Harri’s face instead of Draco’s once more. 

“Come with us,” George offered.

And he did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the long wait. It's been one hell of a year. I promise, I am still writing this. It's just going extremely slow.
> 
> Also, heads up, I've outlined this story. It may not be to peoples' likings, but I have outlined it. Be forewarned that there will be some world hopping starting in chapter 6. Just be prepared. As I've said time and time again, I write this because it's something I want to read. I don't write for other peoples' benefit.
> 
> This story should have about ten chapters, when all is said and done. It's gonna have long wait times, though, since I'm currently living in another country for another five weeks. And then I'm going back to college in the fall to get a Masters. But I actually have a full outline for where this story is going. 
> 
> Again, sorry for the wait. Hope you enjoyed the story - but if you didn't, to be frank I really don't care to know. 
> 
> (Also, I realized here that I may have jumped around with spelling Harry's name. Once I finish this all, I'll go back and edit it all, and make sure all the names are consistent. As of now, I have time to either write occasionally, or edit occasionally. I'm choosing to write.


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